A Jedi Shall Not
by Foulds
Summary: Kelseti and Wilreen are both failed Jedi, but for very different reasons. Now a twist of fate has thrown them together, into a conspiracy at the very heart of the Clone Wars, and into Grievous' hands... Chapter 7, Sub Rosa.
1. Going through the Motions

Title; A Jedi Shall Not

Author; Foulds, with help from my muse

Setting; Between Episode II and III. Anakin is already a Knight.

Disclaimer; Star Wars belongs to George Lucas. Kelseti Talik is loosely modelled on Siri Tachi. Wilreen Beron was inspired by Sha'a Gi.

It took something rather special to turn a Rodian's attention away from a Twi'lek dancer, but Kelseti Talik was far from ordinary. Every head in the Malastare tavern turned towards the young woman who stood framed in the doorway. She was pretty, very nearly clean and dressed casually. Even through the heady haze of pipe-smoke, the patrons of this most exclusive of establishments could tell that she was at least one Rim too far from Coruscant. Sometimes you can walk into the wrong bar and lose your wallet. Here, you lost your arm.

Momentarily, the cut-throats and thieves were perplexed. Dug and Gran alike, they eyed the woman eagerly. Knives were drawn discreetly as they vied to get to her first. Oblivious to her audience, or just plain indifferent, the slender young woman strode confidently towards the back of the bar. Her tanned skin, wavy black hair and deep brown eyes lent her an exotic air.

Purposefully making her way around chairs, broken bottles and unconscious patrons, she sat down in a quiet alcove and slammed a DL-44 blaster on the table. A wiry, greying Toydarian, who had suddenly found himself sitting opposite her, began to greet the woman warmly as he kept his eyes firmly on her gun, "Ah, Kelseti, where've you been? I've been looking all over for-"

"You have fifteen seconds to come up with a damn good excuse, Sniro." Without saying anything else, she marched over to the bar, "Jawawiski on the rocks, and none of that Thyferran crap."

The armed Gran stared back at her with an utterly blank look, "Ick thinca ne?"

"Quin Sevre," Kel replied without hesitation. Maybe it said something about her that the only Gran phrase she knew could be roughly translated as 'the strongest thing you've got'.

"Don't even think about it!" she yelled over her shoulder. She had not turned around, but Sniro abandoned his attempt to hide her weapon. Kelseti casually picked up the tiny glass of luminous blue liquid and dipped in her finger. Carefully tasting it, she smiled; it wasn't poison. Sniro won points for not bribing the staff. She downed the drink in one gulp, twitching as the burning liquid passed down her throat. If it was poison she'd had better.

Once back at the table Kelseti leered over the diminutive alien, "Ok, Sniro, were you ever planning to pay me for the job on Eriadu?"

"You gotta understand, Kelseti," he put up his hands, trying to placate her, "It's bad times to do business. You hear 'bout Vendexa? Trade Federation crawling over it. Terrible. Now how I supposed to get shipments, when-"

The Toydarian trailed off. Collectively, the patrons seemed to hold their breath. Kel flashed a warning glance at the spectators. The clients instantly tried to look in any direction other than that of the woman, all thankful they had not attacked her. They had received a very brusque education in dealing with Kelseti Talik.

Sniro looked up at her and gestured for her to sit down. Kel complied. The Toydarian whispered to her, "Look Miss Talik, these are bad times, but you're good. You're the best in the business. Thauf likes your work. You keep shipments safe. You keep Thauf alive and he's got a lot of enemies. That's a testament to your skills. By the way, I love what you've done with your hair-"

"Shut up and stop crawling, Kenobi."

There was a pause as a hint of incomprehension crossed Sniro's face. Kel rolled her eyes as she realised what she had said. Force of habit, she supposed.

"I've wasted enough time working for smugglers, Sniro. I'm getting paid, and then I'm leaving."

"Ah, Kel, we'll make a Toydarian out of you yet!" Sniro grinned and took a pouch from his belt, passing it from hand to hand enticingly. "Before we talk about your wages, we must talk about extending your contract…"

"I'm leaving, Sniro."

"Kelseti, trust me, you don't want to leave."

She seized the pouch and holstered the blaster, leaving as quickly as she had entered. Sniro raised his hand and smiled with grim satisfaction. A pair of Gamorreans emerged from one of the alcoves and blocked the entrance. Kel was experienced enough in these situations to know how to tell whether you might be able to negotiate your way out. She glanced at the bartender who was raipidly packing away the expensive bottles.

"Oh shit."

Walking backwards to give herself some room, she narrowed her eyes at Sniro, "You wait there. When this is over, I cut you."

One of the Gamorreans lunged for her with a metal staff. She ducked out of his way, catching him under the chin on his way up with a round-house kick. He fell down, and she found herself face to face with his partner, who happened to be wielding a vibro-ax. She coughed, and waved her hand dispiritedly, "You don't want to fight, you want to take a shower."

While Sniro shouted fiercely as one of his bodyguards stumbled towards the fresher, she scanned the emptying bar for further assailants and saw the Gamorrean she had kicked blundering towards her, holding his head in confusion. She acted on instinct and drew her blaster. Not quite fast enough. The bodyguard tackled her and sent the weapon flying out of her grip. As she struggled to rise, the pig-like creature lifted her with ease and flung her through the window into the cool evening air.

She lifted herself up from the walkway, picking broken glass out of her hair. Her hand strayed towards her lightsabre, but she knew she wouldn't use it. These creatures were only doing their job, and she had been working for the same boss until about fifteen seconds ago, "Once! Just once, I'd like to leave a bar via the door!"

She dusted off her casual black garments, and strode back inside; her fists clenched. With a small amount of help from the force, the second Gamorrean shortly met the far wall at speed. She found Sniro hiding behind the bar, swigging a bottle of indeterminable origin, "The bottle."

He handed it to her.

The bar was in chaos. She had robbed the right hand man of a crime lord. Two bodyguards were injured. This was the time she tended to leave any given planet. She walked away slowly, surveying the destruction around her, and raised her eyes skywards, "Alright, force, where next?"

At that moment, her attention was grabbed by a tiny comlink on the bar. She hadn't noticed it before, but the almost empty bar was silent now. It was a cheap little holonet transceiver.

"_-say that there is no immediate danger, several thermal generators and their crews have been cut off. The Sullust representative today told the Senate that further earthquakes can be expected, but that they will be less violent_-"

"This would be your way of telling me that it's time for my good deed for the decade, yes?"

As she left for the spaceport, a forlorn Gran appeared from behind the bar, "Mi Chunta…"

She turned back and looked at him. He was staring at the shattered window. She shook her head and threw the bag of coins to him without looking back.

"Damn conscience."

* * *

"Feel the force," coaxed the composed voice. The blind padawan didn't respond. The training remote had scored so many hits that his left leg was going numb. 

The force knew all, the padawan reminded himself as he regained his composure. And though he was presently blind, the force was the key to knowledge. The force linked everything, and through it he would foresee the training remote's every move. The force, he admitted to himself as he strained to hear where the bloody droid had crept away to this time, was no help whatsoever.

The boy jumped forwards with a yelp as the remote fired a stun blast, painfully stinging the back of his ankle. He awkwardly pulled the blast shield off his head and shook the errant strands of floppy sand-coloured hair from his green eyes. Turning around as the remote continued to evade him, he shot a disapproving and mildly bemused frown at the training droid for its underhand tactics. The remote silently rotated close to his eye line, as if unimpressed by its opponent. At length, the droid decided to be the bigger man and float away.

Wilreen Beron shook his head; he wasn't fond of training remotes. The padawan lowered his green lightsabre forlornly, and allowed himself a moment of abject self-pity as he examined the lightsabre that he had made for himself. The blade emerged at a slight angle from the dull metal handle, which was the result of a minor miscalculation during its construction. He had, to all intents and purposes, a bent lightsabre.

Wil followed the droid, cautiously creeping towards it. He reached out with his hand to deactivate it, but the remote was too quick for the Jedi. The first stun blast struck his hand, knocking him off balance. There followed a barrage of shots. The vanquished Jedi whimpered from the floor, hidden within a tangled mass of robes. The stinging blows rained down on him as he tried to rise. A second training remote floated towards him, hovering with clear malicious intent, "Master Windu, help! They're doing it again…"

Mace watched the spectacle with a mixture of exasperation and acceptance. He normally would have felt shock that a Jedi was being outmanoeuvred, outwitted and outgunned by a simple droid with no independent initiative, but potentially catastrophic insanity was an expected part of Wil's exercises. The venerable Jedi Master shook his head, despairing slightly as a window exploded outwards with tremendous violence. Mace had watched Wil training in the way of the force, as toe-curling a process as it had been, for over a decade.

Wil was about seventeen years old, with pale white skin, a very slim build and a nervous disposition. He should have been a fine Jedi. His midi-chlorian count was fairly high. He had begun his training at a young age under an experienced Master. The problem was that Wilreen Beron ostensibly had no connection to the force whatsoever.

This was aside, Mace reminded himself, as Wil began hurriedly apologising about the window, from his regrettable predisposition to uncontrollably use force push when feeling strong emotion of any description. Wil was, quite simply, a walking disaster. Mace put a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder, "I'll take care of this. You try to relax, and we'll do some meditation later."

"Thank you, Master Windu," Wil stuttered.

Wil kept his head firmly down as he scampered away and descended the ornate marble staircase. He was blushing furiously, and had continued mumbling apologies to the world in general as he fled. He sighed contentedly as he walked through the archway into the comforting presence of Jedi Archives.

He allowed himself a whimsical moment as he inspected the bronze busts of former Masters. He wondered what some of them might say to him if they had still been alive. He guessed that 'they gave _you_ a lightsabre?' and 'standards have really slipped since I died' would be reasonably high up the list. He walked past Dooku's bust without pausing. Dooku had in fact spoken to Wil, not long before leaving the Order. It had been over a decade ago, and Dooku had been contemplating taking a new apprentice, just as Wil had been looking to be assigned to a Master. Dooku's exact words had been 'oh dear'.

His flight of the imagination ended abruptly as he tripped over a cleaning droid. Crawling over to a table to avoid drawing attention to himself, he collapsed into a seat. He was pleased to see Jocasta Nu, the Jedi archivist, approach with a small teacup in her hand. She smiled warmly as she placed the cup in front of him.

Wil examined the drink critically. Tea was the soothing elixir of life, but it had to be made as it should be. The colour was fine. Milk of the correct temperature had then been decanted from the correct height. Perfect. He took a sip and sighed loudly as he slid down his chair and smiled widely. Jocasta laughed and asked, "Bad day, Wilreen?"

"The usual."

"Any news from Master Secura?"

"Not for a few weeks now."

Wil was very fond of his Master. Aayla Secura, the beautiful azure-skinned Twi'lek, had taken Wil as a padawan when nobody else would. Perhaps it was her race that had allowed her to train him. The Twi'lek were said to be calm and patient. She had been forced to call on both skills regularly; Wil had made almost no progress in any of the Jedi arts so far. Nonetheless, there was a warm friendship between the two. She remained ever confident that they would find an aspect of the force for him to master. Healing and foresight had been her most recent proposals. She had been conducting a siege on Dubrillion for months now.

"I also hear you'll be leaving tonight?"

"Yes," Wil replied with the least possible amount of enthusiasm. He hated the missions that the Jedi sent him on. Not that he was sent anywhere dangerous. Everyone knew that Wil couldn't protect himself. In fact, he wasn't even sent on any diplomatic missions. Perhaps the Council had foreseen the diplomatic incidents that could arise from Wil accidentally knocking a dignitary out of a high window.

Nonetheless, the Order was short of knights, and so they were often forced to separate Masters from their padawan learners, sending the former to the battlefield, and the latter on diplomatic missions. All he had to do was travel to Sullust, a strong ally of the Republic, and collect a shipment of raw materials for the ship yards. Jocasta picked up on his anxiety, "What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's just… Why can't we ever rescue kittens from a tree on Corellia, or mediate in a croquet dispute in the Outer Rim? It always has to be violence and loud noises and spaceships and social situations…" he trailed off despondently.

"I'm sure it will be fine"

"You're right. I'm being silly. Do you think they have tea on Sullust?"

"I'm afraid I don't know. Have you packed yet?"

"I'd better do that. Goodbye"

Wil walked away to his room. Sullust was a civilised place. Ergo, logically, they must have tea. Anyway, Jocasta was right. The mission really was simple. That was why he'd been chosen for it. After all, he considered, what could possibly go wrong?

* * *

The command ship's bridge was empty and shrouded in darkness. The clack of metal purposefully striking metal rose and fell in the shadows. His eyes didn't blink. They just watched for weakness. His mind was sharp, his thoughts collected. The essence of good leadership. He didn't turn to acknowledge the new arrival as the door slid open. 

"General," Dooku's voice was calm and courteous. The stalking phantom made no reply, swaying with each step as he moved with insect-like strides. Formalities were not his forte. The Sith continued, "I have word from the surface. An earthquake has struck the planet. We must postpone our landing."

The spectral creature turned and leered with contempt at Dooku. He spoke with an inhuman hiss, "I am aware of the situation. The earthquake will disrupt local communication and transport. There will be no delay."

"You are taking a great risk, General. My Master wants Sullust secured at all costs."

Grievous didn't respond as Dooku marched out. The General had respect for Dooku as a warrior. Nonetheless, the charismatic public face of the Separatists had no place meddling in affairs of war. He watched the amassed fleet in front of him. The squadrons of droid star fighters soared through the cold darkness of space, past the Trade Federation landing crafts. Soon the attack would come, Grievous considered as he gripped the lightsabres of fallen prey, and he would personally crush anybody who opposed him.


	2. Happy Birthday, General Grievous

Hey y'all,

Welcome back to A Jedi Shall Not. This story is being written by me and Jen as a joint project. Basically, I write Wil, and Jen writes Kel. I thank her for her help. I also hope we've got a few Emotion readers on board! Either way, anybody who reviews this story gets a tummy tickle from me.

PS, sorry this went up twice, but my account is being really glitchy at the moment, and keeps putting up incomplete entries. Hopefully this version will work.

All the best,

Jon and Jen

The shuttle dropped out of hyperspace and the red form of Sullust loomed before Wil's eyes. He scratched his side frenziedly, looking mildly uncomfortable. This was his only long hyperspace trip for a year, he realised, and his itchy robe had been the only clean one. Wil glanced around the large passenger bay. Five clone troopers sat in silence, in identical poses; the Chancellor had insisted from the beginning of the Clone War that all Jedi, unless in starfighters, should travel with an escort as standard.

The shuttle cut through the black smoke that made up most of the atmosphere. Wil knew almost nothing about Sullust but he had heard that there had been a recent earthquake. Master Windu had assured him that it would not interfere with his mission, and, after a relatively brief panic attack, Wil had agreed. With a roar, the shuttle touched down gently on the grey stone roof of a thermal generator building. Wil hopped out first, followed by his five bodyguards.

A grey protocol droid, which Wil was delighted to hear had a similar accent to his own, appeared on a platform that rose up from the building's interior. The droid approached, "I am NK-13 at your service. The station supervisor will be with you shortly. Please follow me."

* * *

"You are certain?" exclaimed Nute Gunray, pacing through the darkened command centre. 

"Yes sir, he was definitely a Jedi. He's here to collect a shipment of raw materials." The unassuming voice of a protocol droid answered over the comlink. Rune Haako approached his superior, keeping his head down, as the leader of the Trade Federation ordered the transmission to be cut. Both Neimoidians were clearly panicked, "I say we give him the supplies and let him leave."

The piercing snap of Grievous tapping his clawed foot silenced the Neimoidians, as well as drawing the attention of every droid in the room, "No ship is to leave the system," hissed the General, "We don't know what he might have figured out."

"Then we must deploy droidekas!" babbled Rune hurriedly.

Gunray threw his arms up in frustration, "Didn't you learn anything from Naboo? Our whole army is powerless against the Jedi!" Grievous had begun walking towards the exit during the apprehensive exchange. Nute Gunray saw the droid leader leaving, "General! You cannot leave! What if this Jedi comes here?"

Grievous did not turn to face the Neimoidians, "A Jedi Master may complicate matters. I will deal with him myself."

* * *

Kelseti sprinted over the black sand dunes, trying to keep to the shadows. It was still daytime, but little light penetrated Sullust's atmosphere. She decided that she would never, should the occasion rise, suggest Sullust as a vacation spot for any Jedi. Well, maybe she would recommend it to a few Jedi, but only those that deserved it. 

First the ticket inspector on her transport had been slightly more strong-minded than she'd have liked. Then, as soon as she'd arrived, droids had overrun the transport. At first, sure, it'd been fun to carve them up into interesting shapes, but that was getting dull. Plus, she'd almost been killed six times which, at the Temple, had been her idea of a good time, but Hell, she'd needed the extra excitement in those days. She ducked behind a rock and froze.

Silence.

It looked like she'd lost them. Kel glanced around; she needed to find help, transport; anything to help her make sense of this Jedi-unfriendly planet. She scrambled up the side of a rocky mound and peered over the edge. Stretching away for miles in front of her was a volcanic crater. At the base of the giant crevice, rivers of lava flowed through the black stone chasms and channels. Geysers of steam erupted through the cracked surface of the planet. The rock faces were jagged and splintered. The planet still wore the wounds of the recent earthquake; huge piles of collapsed stone had blocked the normal course of lava, creating treacherous cascades of magma.

She glanced downwards as the black sand around her feet began to shift. The whole area was trembling. She covered her face against the assault of the ferocious sandstorm as a Trade Federation landing craft roared overhead and descended into the crater itself. Shaking the heavy black sand out of her hair and clothes, she coughed violently. The air stank of sulphur; it was foul enough without being thick with dust.

She raised her eyes skywards, "You bastard! You absolute bloody bastard! I agreed to this little trip in order to help a few cute little Sullustans get home safely. I never put my name down to liberate a bloody planet! I expect an apology!"

As she glared at the sky, the force made no reply. However, she did hear something over the distant rumbling of a volcano's internal workings. A cold mechanical voice reached her ears, "Halt. You're under arrest."

She turned around slowly. A solitary droid was perched on a Single Trooper Aerial Platform and it had both blaster cannons trained on her. Ignoring the droid, Kel continued to glare at the sky, "I bloody hate you."

As she ignited her lightsabre, the droid opened fire. Outgunned by the swift craft, she hurled herself over the droid's head and landed behind it. The STAP turned faster than she expected, and she dropped her drawn blaster before she could fire, forced to stay moving. As the cannons' fire caught up with her, Kel dropped to the ground and rolled to one side while the onslaught from the STAP's heavy blasters trailed her every move.

Deflecting what fire she could, Kel flung her hand out and seized a stone through the force, before hurling it at the droid. The crushing blow smashed through the flimsy armour, knocking it off the STAP, and pinning it to the ground. Turning off her lightsabre she knelt down next to the droid that she had just disabled. Though only the head and half of its torso remained, it challenged her again, "Halt. You're under arrest."

Kel disregarded the fact that droids had no sense of irony and proceeded to give it deprecating glare. She casually picked up the crippled piece of technology with one hand and tore a handful of wires from its neck with the other, instantly silencing the droid. Laying it back down, she wandered back over to the rim of the crater.

A huge grey building seemed to be growing out of the central pool of lava. Kel recognised that it was a thermal generator, used to power the planet and its Sorosuub industries. She tried to see the building more clearly, though the smoke and heat haze were making it difficult. A craft had put down on the flat roof. It almost looked like…

"A Republic shuttle!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up, "It's about bloody time you came through for me!"

Kel reclaimed her blaster, hopped onto the now unoccupied STAP and indifferently threw it over the side of the crater.

* * *

Flinching away from the unbearable heat of the lava, Kel glanced back at the STAP, which was looking slightly burnt after an almost successful attempt to save time by jumping over a lava flow. The thermal generator was a short way out into lake of molten rock. Without a starship it could only be accessed via a metal rail, which, Kel presumed as she crawled over it, was normally used by a transport system to bring supplies in. 

She glanced up and guessed that she was close enough. Focussing on the moment, she leapt, passively allowing herself to be pulled through the force. She flew up in slow motion, and her path formed a smooth arc in the air. With a final flourish on landing, time returned to its normal speed and the outside world, including the dull throbbing pain from the various minor injuries she had picked up so far, returned. She tentatively looked from side to side and grinned widely, "Not dead _and_ on the roof. Check out my mad force skills."

Kel approached the shuttle. Lambda-class, she thought they were called. The Republic had just introduced them into the fleet. The landing ramp was still down. She hesitantly climbed up into the spacious interior passenger bay. It was empty. She called out to anybody who might be there, considering that it probably was not a great idea to sneak up on your one potential ally, if they happen to be both armed and in a war zone.

She flicked a switch in the wall, causing door to the cockpit to swish open. She stepped inside the small pilot's area and instantly recoiled. She turned away, instinctively closing her eyes as a wave of nausea hit her. Breathing quickly and standing in silence as she tried to comprehend what was happening, Kelseti Talik quietly muttered, "Oh fuck."

She stepped back inside, against her own desire, and took in the sickening scene. The Republic trooper had been decapitated. His body was still seated; he had not even heard his attacker approach. The smell was foul but Kel's attention was drawn to the gaping wound over his torso. There was no bleeding. Though Kel would normally have taken this fact as a small blessing, it made the attack far more disturbing. Only one weapon in the Galaxy instantly cauterised wounds; she knew that a lightsabre had done this.

She told herself to calm down and focus on the present, and then cursed. Over a decade on, and she was still spouting pretentious Jedi sayings at the first sign of danger. She suddenly tilted her head a fraction. Something wasn't right.

…beep beep beep beep beep…

"Oh, you have got to be joking-"

The thermal detonator exploded.

* * *

The blast from the roof shook the entire complex. Wil sat up straight with a startled whimper, looking around the long grey meeting room that the droid had led them to. His lightsabre, which he had been nervously and instinctively fidgeting with, slipped from his grasp. He fumbled to retrieve it, but succeeded only in spilling the dregs of his third cup of tea onto his Jedi robes. He saw that his escort had leapt into action and timidly asked, "Was that me or you?" 

The squadron leader drew his rifle and primed it with a fluid and well practised movement, signalling for his men to take up covering positions around the meeting room's entrance, "I don't know, Master Beron." The captain drew a tiny comlink from his belt, "RH-127, what is your status?" Only static was returned, "RH-127, do you copy?" Again, there was a long pause. The commander turned and yelled at his troops, "Code Yellow, we need an emergency extraction."

The clones leapt into action around Wil, leaving him stuttering where he was. The commander approached him, "Master Beron, we have to leave. Stay close to me, sir."

"Oh, I knew this would happen."

At the end of the grey meeting room's long table, one of the clone troopers kicked open the door and ran out with his blaster up. He never saw the blow coming. In truth, none of the troops were quite sure what had happened. There had been a flash of blue and green; so brief that it looked like a trick of the light.

Then, as his torso slumped forwards, both the soldier's arms fell off.

There was the absolute silence in the room. No movement. Then Wil began to hyperventilate. The troopers backed away from the door, unfazed by what had happened, staying in a perfect defensive formation and training their weapons at the only entrance.

Which was exactly why they didn't expect an attack from the side.

The right hand wall exploded as an inhumanly fast shadow smashed through it. The stone wall collapsed instantly, sending a dense screen of dust through the area. Through the thick mist, Wil saw two ignited lightsabres scythe through the area at a staggering rate. The clones opened fire at once, covering the meeting room with a torrent of blaster fire, aiming at the fatal dancing blades.

Screams cut through the dust cloud as clones were hacked apart. The commander seized Wil and dragged him down the meeting room. He pulled a metal cylinder from his belt and threw it at the far wall ahead of him. The explosion blasted through the thin partition, and the commander jumped through, pulling Wil with him, shouting back to his men, "Everyone out! Now!"

Wil looked around as he stumbled onwards. They had entered a huge open expanse of metal. The area was flat and contained no cover at all. He guessed it was a disused storage area. The commander stopped at the room's centre and spun round, drawing a heavy-duty blaster pistol in each hand. As silence fell, no more clones emerged from the swirling dust of the meeting room.

Then Wil saw him.

Like a wolf stalking its prey in the black midnight mist, Grievous strolled fearlessly into the open, two lightsabres ignited around him like luminous wings, further adding to the insect-like appearance. He swayed slightly with every stride. His eyes blazed from behind the severe metal mask.

The commander opened fire with a volley of shots, and Grievous leapt into action. The droid General bounded to his left, soaring through the air with an unsettling elegance. He landed nimbly and never stopped moving, darting from side to side, charging along the floor and walls with his clawed feet. He raced around the room in a circle, every second drawing closer to his prey. Soon he would be in striking distance. The commander called to Wil, "Master Beron! Do something!"

"I just think you should know that I don't cope well in stressful situations..."

"Master Beron, please!"

Wil shook his head. Grievous was getting closer every second. He closed his eyes, focusing every last part of his mind onto the force... he had to call on the force…

With a pained cry, the clone trooper was battered off his feet and sent flying backwards by the power of the force, before smashing into the far wall and being knocked unconscious.

"Oh flip."

Wil, fully aware of exactly what he had just caused, decided to keep his eyes closed and hope that the leader of the Separatist forces would go away and leave him alone. After what seemed like an eternity, he opened one eye, and saw Grievous standing opposite him in bemused silence.

"Master Jedi."

"Um…" Wil tried to think fast, "Stay back! For I am indeed a powerful Jedi Master! Leave now, and I will spare your life!" Wil sounded thoroughly unconvinced by his own words. Grievous responded by igniting one of his many lightsabres. Wil was quite aware that he was sweating, "Ha! You think you can defeat me with a Jedi weapon? You still have much to learn… Two lightsabres? Well, I think I can handle that…" It was at this moment that both of Grievous' arms split apart with sickening crack and the General drew two more blades, "Oh, um, four lightsabres… Well, that's new… How about we just call it a draw?"

"Taking your life you will be a pleasure, Jedi. On this day, years ago, my body was crushed. The Separatists rebuilt me. I gained the power to crush any foe. I was reborn."

Wil glanced from side to side, backing away slowly as he desperately tried to think of something appropriate to say in response, "Um...Happy Birthday...?"

Grievous hesitated in bewilderment. For possibly the first time in the Clone Wars, he had been thrown off guard by a Jedi, or, rather, by the example of remarkable idiocy before him. He shook his head and continued stalking forwards, "And after I have killed you, I will take your lightsabre as a trophy for my collection."

"You want the lightsabre? How about I just give it to you, and if anybody asks, I'll say that you won it from me in combat?"

Wil quickly tried to remove the Jedi weapon from his belt and tossed it over to Grievous, who seized it with one of his feet. The General ignited the lightsabre, but recoiled slightly as the blade appeared at an angle from the metal grip. He hissed even more than usual, perhaps to register his scorn, "It is bent, Master Jedi."

Wil sniffed. People were always saying that, "So? It works just fine…"

"I have no interest in flawed trophies."

Grievous threw away the lightsabre disdainfully, stepping forwards. Wil backed away faster, stuttering, "Maybe we could discuss this like gentlemen?"

Grievous leapt forwards for the kill. Wil responded in the only way he knew how; he fainted.


	3. Are you an Angel?

Hello,

Behold the lovely new chapter of A Jedi Shall Not, featuring everybody's favourite two Jedi that don't deserve lightsabres; Kel and Wil. A huge thanks, as always, to my co-author, Jenni, and hugs and chocolate for our reviewers,

Jon and Jen

Grievous completed his unnatural leap and four of his spider-like limbs crashed down around Wil's unconscious body. The ground cracked, and Grievous peered inquisitively at his prey. The Jedi had not flinched. Faced with such an easy kill, Grievous felt the slightest hint of unease. Surely the Republic wouldn't have despatched anybody quite this incompetent? Wil dangled from his robe, firmly held in one of Grievous' clawed feet, suspended in midair. The General shook the Jedi disdainfully, and watched him swing to a standstill. The Council could not be serious. Still, he considered, it was better to dismiss a foe as useless after he was dead, lest he prove you wrong. With a sudden synchronised flash of light, four lightsabres ignited, each ready to skewer Wil from a different angle.

"So, I hear you're the new cleaning droid around here?" A female voice called across the hall, using such an insulting tone that Grievous' head snapped round, instantly forgetting the pathetic specimen he held in his vice-like grip. Had Grievous possessed eyebrows, he may have raised them in surprise at this point. A scruffy, slightly charred woman with unkempt black hair strode confidently forwards, "I have to say, I don't think much of your housekeeping," she continued, strolling around the cyborg and the boy, pretending to examine the General, "There are dead clone troopers lying _everywhere_."

Grievous softly hissed his approval. He ignored the woman's jokes and sized her up, as she did him. Her confidence was genuine; as she stepped about him subtle shifts in her balance betrayed the fact that she was an experienced fighter. The first Jedi had been a mere worm, but this one would put up a better fight, and Grievous looked forward to it. He turned his head slightly as she ignited her uniquely coloured weapon; his collection hitherto lacked a pink lightsabre.

He discarded the harmless body of Wil carelessly, and the boy's limp frame slid across the metal floor. Suddenly revealing her resentment at his treatment of the boy, and of all the dead troopers, Kel's jovial appearance faded. She had to focus her mind carefully for just a moment, before yelling across the room, "Before I cut you down, maggot, do you have any last requests?"

Grievous raised his lightsabres with a malicious flourish. He was going to enjoy this, "Foolish woman. No Jedi can match my power! I was taught in the warrior arts by Count Dooku himself! I will-" Grievous would probably have continued proclaiming his prowess for some time, had an avalanche of stone and twisted metal shards not buried him under their colossal weight.

Kel shook her head as she relaxed her concentration; men always wanted to brag. Her gaze flicked towards the settling dust in the centre of the room as the heap of debris shifted slightly, "Oh right, the whole metal-body-with-inhuman-strength thing." She rushed over towards the boy; his body had come to rest near a huge opening.

A blue lightsabre emerged from the rubble, tearing apart a metal support beam. Having quickly reclaimed the young Jedi's lightsabre with the force, Kel knelt down; he was still breathing. As she grabbed his leg and began to pull him towards the room's single official exit, Grievous exploded out of his prison and launched himself into a scuttling charge, roaring with anger.

Hauling Wil's stirring form by a single leg, she sprinted through the huge entrance to the room, discarding the semiconscious boy, who groggily murmured a suppressed complaint. Aware of the mounting snarl of the attacking General, she scanned the area, and leapt to the right of the doors, slamming her lightsabre into a small control panel up to the hilt, shielding her face from the shower of sparks with her other hand.

The metal blast doors creaked to life and accelerated across the void, sealing off the storage area. The immense covers slammed shut with a thunderous crash, with several further clashes becoming increasingly muffled. She watched tentatively as she heard the General's huge weight smash into the closed doors. The blast shields, designed to withstand the heat of a full lava flow, withstood his attack, but four tiny spots faintly glowed red. Grievous was coming through.

Kel exhaled slowly; he wouldn't get through for a while yet. Strolling over to the boy, she knelt down beside him and stroked a wisp of blond hair from his forehead. His eyes opened a fraction before he rolled over, away from the light. She smiled at the young Jedi, "Hey kiddo, how's you?"

Wil rolled back over, looking up blearily, and he saw the woman's silhouette framed against the bright complex lights, "Are… are you an angel?"

Kel promptly thwacked him, "What kind of line is that?" The boy blinked stoically, gazing up in awe and fear at the dark-skinned older woman. She sighed, and let some of her annoyance melt away. "What's your name?"

"Wilreen Beron."

She held out a hand, ready to pull him up, "Kelseti Talik."

Wil looked over her curiously and his eyes settled on her lightsabre. Whimpering happily, he sat up and embraced her tightly, "Oh thank the force! The Jedi Council sent you! I'm saved!"

Kel looked from side to side, wondering how the hell she got into this situation, "Yeah, sure, those guys. The Council. I'll explain later. I think we had better be moving, Wil."

He glanced round as the sickening creak of warping metal echoed through the room, "We should get to the roof; there's a shuttle and we-"

"It blew up," she stated flatly. Wil looked at her with wide-eyed confusion as she pulled him to his feet. "Yeah, that happens to a lot of stuff I touch. Don't worry, I've been in bigger explosions than that before. Any better ideas?"

"Not exactly, no…Hey! Wait for me!" he yelled after Kel, as she set off at a sprint.

"Oh, and you dropped this," she casually yelled over her shoulder, tossing Wil's lightsabre back to him.

Wil's eyes lit up at once as he proudly recited, "This weapon is my life."

Kel froze, and turned slowly towards him with a mixture of dread and menace, "Who told you that?"

"Master Obi-Wan Kenobi," Wil declared with a dreamy sigh, stopping beside her, tilting his head at her sudden change of tone. "He's ever so wise, don't you think? And such a swordsman. And he crinkles his nose when he laughs, and-"

"Just bloody great. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse; the only friendly life form on this system is a fucking Kenobi fan boy."

A plate of metal fell from the buckling doors as the barrage of lightsabre blows tore through the blast shields. Instinctively, Kel spun and ignited her lightsabre, with Wil following her lead. They both lowered their weapons as soon as it was clear that Grievous was not yet through, and ran further away from the door before noticing the other's weapon, still ignited in a free hand.

"It's bent," she smirked.

Wil blushed, before looking over Kel's own somewhat distinctive weapon, "Why do you have a pink lightsabre?"

"Because I can."

The pair reached the end of the long corridor, and the second set of closed blast doors. Kel tapped the control panel frenziedly and swore, before turning to her jittery counterpart, "The area's locked down. We're not getting out this way, Wil."

"Um, I would rather appreciate it if you could come up with a plan. I'm not really good at the strategy thing."

"Can't you do anything well?"

"Well, Master Windu did once praise my penmanship, and I think-"

"The monorail!" she exclaimed to herself, recalling the metal rail which she had used to get into the structure. "There's a transport on the lowest floor, Wil."

"Where are the lifts?"

Kel glanced back along the corridor at the final scorched remains of the blast doors, and smiled, "No time, kiddo. We have to do this the fun way." Kel at once plunged her lightsabre into the floor and began cutting a circle around herself and Wil.

"Where does the transport go?"

"Not sure," Kel replied.

"What's directly below us?"

"I don't know," Kel snapped, constantly checking on the tattered final blast door. Three lightsabres were tearing through it as she spoke.

"What if-"

"Stop asking questions."

Kel stamped on the floor, which plummeted down towards the unknown, and smashed into the ground below it, closely followed by the pair of Jedi. Kel landed, instinctively rolled to avoid injury, and raised her arms just in time to catch Wil, who was pointlessly thrashing and screaming. Continuing to hold him just long enough to make him self-conscious, she set the boy down and scanned her surroundings.

The expansive hangar had only three walls; the remaining side of the room was completely open and the intermittent red glow of the lava provided the only light. The track led across the room, and two small grey covered transports lay dormant on the far side of the hangar.

Kel rushed over to it, closely followed by Wil, just as a final crash from the torn metal echoed through the complex; the doors had buckled, and they could already hear Grievous' huge frame stampeding towards them. Kel and Wil burst into the front transport, and Kel tried to launch the small vehicle. Wil glanced back; each transport was almost bare on the inside, and they were joined only by a simple walkway and an energy binder.

Kel frenziedly tapped at the controls as the old-fashioned vehicle grudgingly creaked forwards, accelerating sluggishly, groaning as it scraped over the single rail. Kel's attention to the controls was broken as Wil whimpered and began gesticulating wildly to the side. Grievous had crawled through the hole in the ceiling, and he hung there, suspended, surveying the situation. He calmly discarded his thick cloak, which he let flutter downwards onto the tracks before fearlessly launching himself downwards. He smashed into the ground, immediately breaking into a sprint, an intense blaze of blue and green whirling around him, drawing ever closer to the transport.

Wil, feeling, as always, like a spectator watching the world in general, glanced at Kel. Her face suddenly looked distant and resolute. It was so unlike the buoyant carefree attitude that he had very quickly come to expect from her. Kel quickly realised that there was no way that they could outrun Grievous; the transport was accelerating too slowly. She noticed Wil's inquisitive gaze and shot him a dry smile, "Stay here. And don't touch anything."

She walked slowly to the rear of the transport and stepped through the door, across the divide and into the rear transport, gripping her uniquely coloured lightsabre firmly, keeping her eyes steadfastly on Grievous; the General was moving directly behind the vehicle. She opened the rear door, and stepped down onto the small platform outside, igniting her lightsabre. She had to hold off Grievous long enough for them to escape, mainly as she could tell that Wil didn't stand a chance on his own. She wasn't quite sure why she felt an obligation to help the boy. Maybe it was another vestige of her time in the Order; she realised that a padawan like him probably had it as hard as she had at the Temple.

Grievous watched the woman guarding the back of the transport. He laughed quietly; it had been a while since a Jedi had seriously challenged him. With a powerful kick that he made look effortless, Grievous hurled his imposing metal frame forwards amid a blur of lightsabres. Kel stayed calm, and swung violently upwards, deflecting the attack, and flinging the General backwards.

Somersaulting, Grievous threw out an arm, grasping the metal rail behind him in a shower of sparks. Not only had he broken his fall, but, using the same momentum, he swivelled about his arm, which he held steadfast to the rails, and reversed the fall. Thus he threw all his weight back towards the train, catching up with his fast moving prey and renewing his assault.

Suppressing a shudder on witnessing Grievous' inhuman fighting-style, Kel glanced over her shoulder. They were almost at the edge of the hangar, and if they got to the bridge over the lava then they were safe; there the rail was too thin for Grievous to pursue.

Kel watched the soaring metal form approach along the tracks, as fast as the bullet trains had been on Coruscant. He thrust two blades towards her, and she jumped backwards instinctively, cursing as she looked up to see Grievous framed in the doorway; now they would fight on equal ground. She heard a grating, metallic snarl, and realised the General was laughing at her. Kel shrugged her shoulders, and grinned wildly, "You're right. This could be a bundle of laughs."

The woman charged forwards, lashing out with powerful sweeping blows. Grievous was caught off guard and backed away; she had him fighting defensively. He watched her cautiously. He was used to Jedi being somewhat predictable - they all tended to use the same attacks, blocks and parries - but this woman was fighting, he realised, far more like Dooku. Then, without warning, she darted forwards within his lightsabre range, and shoulder-barged his huge frame, knocking them both to the floor and towards the door. Kel, using the force abilities that she alone in this struggle possessed, casually leapt upright, as Grievous, scrambling in confusion, slid out of the transport.

Kel turned and beamed at Wil, "See. No problem." It was at that moment that a single metal hand, still containing an ignited blue lightsabre, flew through the door and gripped the floor, tearing holes straight through the metal with its strong fingers. Kel turned to see Grievous hanging from the back of the transport, being dragged along, trying desperately to get a better grip as his huge weight worked against him. Kel strolled to the back of the transport, and watched Grievous clatter across the ground, making a shower of sparks behind him.

He looked up at her with pure hatred burning in his yellow eyes, "I warn you, Jedi, this isn't over. I will crush-"

"I'm sorry, Grievous. It _is_ over between us." Kel deadpanned, then, slamming her lightsabre down on his exposed arm, she severed it just below the wrist and watched him plunge from the platform, smashing violently into the ground. She pretended to wipe away a tear, "We never would have worked out, darling." She grinned, satisfied with her achievement, and examined her spoils as the transport accelerated out over the lava. She turned off the blue lightsabre, examining the intricately decorated handle before attaching it to her belt. She then picked up Grievous' arm with relish, and strolled back into the front transport, where Wil sat at the controls.

Kel tapped him on the shoulder with the metal arm, and hissed, "Crush. Maim. Destroy."

Wil flailed in a panic, kicking out and accidentally hitting something. Kel wasn't sure what, but it made the transport go just a little bit faster, and so she wished he had found just a little earlier.

"Relax, kiddo." She waved the arm, before setting it down on the control panel.

Wil looked up sheepishly. He was used to needing assistance in most circumstances, but this woman had risked her life for his. He hesitated, before finally stating simply, "Thank you."

"No problem." She sat down next to him, leaning back in the chair and putting her heavily-booted feet up on the control panel.

Wil turned back to the controls, recoiling slightly at the sight of Grievous' arm. "Why did you- are you going to get rid of it?"

"Actually I was thinking of getting it framed." Kel crossed her arms behind her head, regarding it proudly, "A holiday souvenir from the planet of volcanic fun. Come bag yourself your very own freaky-armed robot..."

Kel continued to expound upon the delights of Sullust as the transport sped off towards a destination unknown to the two mismatched Jedi.

* * *

Grievous rose unsteadily to his feet and examined himself. Noticing that one of his legs had been twisted out of shape during the fall, he seized it angrily, bending it back into place with little effort. He glanced around to see battle droids running over to him, then glared bitterly along the metal rail. The transport had sped out of sight. He cursed, and ran through the leading droid with one of his remaining lightsabres. That woman had humiliated him, and he vowed he would have her lightsabre and, simultaneously, her life. 


	4. I wouldn't trust you to cross the road

Hey all, welcome back to A Jedi Shall Not!

In answer to a review, yes, Kel is very powerful indeed, and the Jedi did recognise this, and you get the first bit of her back story this very chapter…

Anyway, thanks as ever to my wonderful co-writer, Jen, and a cup of tea made just the way you like it to all our reviewers, as we love you,

Jon and Jen, xxx

The mismatched Jedi sat in silence, both getting their breath back from the encounter with Grievous. Now that their lives weren't in immediate danger, there was a certain awkwardness between the pair, as a result of Wil's social ineptitude, and Kel's mild contempt for Wil. The boy turned to the older woman, "So what now?"

"It'll help if we know when Republic reinforcements are going to arrive."

Wil examined the controls, and noticed a small holonet transceiver, which he turned on. The outdated speakers produced a tinny warble, within which Kel could hear fragments of a financial report. Wil continued scanning frequencies until a news report could be heard.

'-continued to reassure senators that the situation is under control, and that communications will soon be restored. The spate of earthquakes has also grounded many scheduled transports. The Chancellor, however, has again rejected appeals for troops to be sent to relieve the planet.

The representative for Sullust also revealed today that a single Jedi, who was already on the planet, has been injured in a rockslide. The Jedi Council have confirmed his presence, and, following reassurances that his condition is stable, and that his escort is providing a useful service, they have also announced that no reinforcements will be sent to Sullust.'

Wil turned down the transceiver as the report began to go into specific detail about the damage caused by the natural disaster. His mouth gaped as he gazed out of the window at the black rock formations and flowing lava, "What's… what does this mean?"

"Sullust has defected to the Confederacy, and they're using the earthquake to cover up the occupation. But… the Republic will get suspicious pretty quickly. This doesn't make sense."

"But… Why wouldn't the Council send somebody after me? Even if they thought I was just injured, couldn't they have sent a single healer?" Wil muttered quietly, staring into the middle distance. Kel glanced at his face; Wil looked quite hurt by the revelation that the Jedi hadn't sent out anybody after him.

"In my experience, the Jedi don't always care about the individual," Kel commented with a hint of bitterness, "Anyway, this is a war; the healers have their hands full on the frontlines."

Wil nodded mutedly, before turning back to Kel. He slowly shuffled backwards, retreating into his seat, and gripped his lightsabre, though it was more as a security blanket than a weapon, "If the Council didn't send anybody, then who are you?" he asked guardedly.

Kel looked at him sympathetically, crossed over to his side of the transport, and sat down next to him. Wil flinched away from her, still concerned for his safety, and wary of this woman. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and spoke warmly, with an unassuming smile, "I'm one of the good guys. I promise you."

Wil contemplated her for a moment. He was quite aware that he was naïve, and an awful judge of character, but something about this woman made him trust her completely. He relaxed, having set aside his lightsabre. He was still curious, and earnestly asked, "So are you a Jedi?"

Kel's smile briefly became distant, and she paused for a moment, before answering, "I used to be. I decided to leave the Order nearly 15 years ago."

"Why?"

"I was never cut out to be a Jedi. They thought I was dangerous, and I hated the Code that I had to live by. So, in the end, I left."

"What about the pink lightsabre?"

Kel laughed, "They told me you couldn't have a pink lightsabre. Kenobi said that it was impossible. It took over a month in the freezing wastes of Ilum, but I managed to prove him wrong, and I waved it in his face. Literally. I got called up in front of the Council for that too."

"Why don't you like Master Kenobi?" Wil asked, as if the concept of somebody not adoring Obi-Wan in every way was inconceivable.

Kel turned and glared at Wil fiercely. Wil whimpered and shied away, mumbling a series of apologies. Kel silently rebuked herself for scaring the boy and forced her annoyance to subside; there was no way for him to know what had happened all those years ago.

She spoke calmly, "Kenobi and me were trained at the same time. We shared a lot of classes and exercises when we were young, and knew each other when we were growing up. We didn't always see things from the same point of view. Some people thought that I was a bad influence on him, and they were probably right. In the end, there was some unpleasantness."

Kel stopped her story there, and breathed deeply to calm herself down. She stood up and went over to the controls. Wil knew that it was a good idea not to push the topic any further; whatever had happened, he could see that she was still bitter about it.

At that moment, the control panel emitted a rapid series of whistles. Kel flicked a switch and looked over the scanner. Wil got up and walked over to her, "What is it?"

"A vulture droid, and it's coming in fast. Grab onto something," she instructed, sitting down and gripping the seat tightly with her hands, bracing herself for the droid's first volley of fire…

Nothing happened.

Kel cautiously rose, gesturing for Wil to stay down, just in case, and checked the scanners; the droid was almost directly above them. Kel could just hear the roar of its engines over the noise of their own transport. The control panel's alarm suddenly changed pitch and speed. Kel shrugged, "It's pulled up. That's lucky."

At that exact moment, General Grievous, having leapt down from the back of the vulture droid, smashed straight through the ceiling of the rear transport.

Kel jumped across the entrance to the front transport, and the two warriors faced each other for a moment in silence. Grievous enjoyed the stand-off, and he guessed that this woman knew the game well.

Kel went over the situation in her mind quickly; she had the lost the element of surprise that her aggressive lightsabre combat style initially gave her, and Grievous was faster, stronger, and had three lightsabres. It was only common sense, she realised, that Grievous was about to murder her.

"Better to go out in style…" she muttered to herself. Kel broke the face-off with a quick draw of her blaster, which she fired frantically at the droid leader; Grievous was fast, but, without force sensitivity, he couldn't easily deflect blaster fire. The General stood his ground for a moment, but finding himself unable to advance against the barrage or dodge in the narrow confines of the transport, he leapt back up through the hole he had just torn through the ceiling, and gripped onto the roof with his clawed feet.

Kel holstered her blaster, and ignited her lightsabre, scanning the doors and windows for any trace of him; Grievous' inhuman body let him strike from any angle. She couldn't help but shiver as the sickening creek of metal deforming reached her ears; Grievous was above them. She hissed quietly at Wil, "Lie down, and stay perfectly still."

She ducked to her left as a green lightsabre tore through the roof, barely missing her, and then she rolled forwards as another blade cut through the wall, crying out in agony as one of Grievous' blades just touched the skin of her shoulder . Kel shoved her own blade through the ceiling, but fell back under the rapid assault of three lightsabres.

Three blades carved through the thin metal roof, and Grievous tore off the panel with one of his legs, before lowering himself in, lightsabres spinning defensively around him. Unable to get close to him, Kel batted away the merciless onslaught with her blade, before drawing her blaster with her free hand, and firing again, causing Grievous to retreat back onto the roof. Holstering her blaster, Kel sprinted to the new hole, and leapt up through it. She landed unsteadily, and struggled to stay balanced at such speed.

Kel found herself at the very front of the leading transport, looking backwards. Grievous met her gaze, appearing far more secure in the wind and smoke. She prepared to defend herself, but then noticed Grievous staring at her torso. Just as she was about to dismiss this as typical male behaviour, she realised that his interest was in the ornate lightsabre handle that she had claimed earlier.

She waved the lightsabre with her free hand, "Didn't you have four lightsabres the last time we met? Oh right, you want this back."

"I took that weapon from Master Barrek. Now I will reclaim it, and add your own to my collection," Grievous snapped back at her.

"Good for you," she commented dryly, drawing her arm back, "Fetch." Kel hurled the lightsabre into the air as hard as she could. Grievous roared in anger, and leapt to catch it. Kel threw herself forwards to the gap between the transports, just as Grievous, having seized the lightsabre, fell towards the rear vehicle.

Kel drew her blaster in one fluid movement, and fired downwards on instinct. Each shot smashed into the energy binder, which failed instantly. Suddenly pulling half the weight, the front transport accelerated away from the back one, which Grievous landed on just in time to see Kel escaping him again.

The droid leader hissed scornfully at the girl's attempt to get away, and he stepped back, preparing himself. He sprinted forwards and threw himself into the air, easily catching up with the first transport, and on course to land back on the roof. He snarled at Kel, "I will crush you!"

"Oh piss off."

She raised her hand calmly, and closed her eyes. Grievous' huge form was brutally shunted backwards, as if it had just struck a invisible wall in the air. His spider-like limbs and metal skeleton were twisted and wrenched as they slammed into the hard stone ground. Grievous tried to rise, but he found that his limbs were completely buckled and deformed, and he collapsed immediately, roaring furiously at the woman.

Kel waved her finger admonishingly as the transport once more left the droid leader behind, "Sorry General, not on the first date."

Kel leapt down through the hole that Grievous had cut through the ceiling, landing heavily on her feet with a muted protest. She collapsed into her seat and wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead, releasing a long low groan as her new collection of cuts and bruises began to sting. Wil walked over, glanced at her wound, though he wasn't a healer, sat down, and asked, "Are you ok?"

"No injuries I don't get on a weekly basis." Kel then sat in silence, absent-mindedly rubbing a bruise on her leg, before quietly speculating, "I think we may have walked in on something bigger than we thought, Wil."

"What do you mean?

"If Grievous wants us dead this badly, then Sullust must be damn important to the Separatists. You have to get back to Coruscant, and I'm coming too; somebody needs to protect you from the Confederacy."

"Oh, I'm sure that I'll be fine."

"Wil, I wouldn't trust you to cross the road."

"That's a bit unfair," he sniffed, "Anyway, why do you want to help?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, Grievous wants any witnesses of his little attack dead. I'm in the firing line as much as you, so I suggest we stick together until we can inform the Republic what's going on."

Kel paused there. It was also true that she felt pity for the people on Sullust, but she didn't want to admit it. Wil nodded, before pointing out, "But the senator for Sullust is telling everybody that nothing's wrong, and the Chancellor is opposing any intervention."

"In that case, we need evidence of the Confederacy's presence here, to prove that Sullust has betrayed the Republic."

"Where are we going to get evidence of the Separatists' presence?"

Kel pondered the problem for a minute, before a smile spread across her face.

"I think we already have it," she said, gesturing at Grievous' arm.

Both Kel and Wil grabbed onto their seats as the transport shuddered violently. Kel glanced ahead, and saw that they were slowing down as they approached what looked like a hangar...

* * *

Minutes later, a small old-fashioned Republic Cruiser thundered out of the hangar and soared into the thick black atmosphere. Wil eyed Kel suspiciously as she pushed buttons with a certain apprehension, and tentatively asked, "Do you actually know how to fly one of these things?" 

"Oh how hard can it be?" she replied confidently. Kel then examined one of the data readouts, and kicked the base of the control panel, "The hyperdrive doesn't have enough power to get us to Coruscant, Wil. It'd burn out before we got half way."

"What do we do now then?"

"We have to find a system that we can hide on, and one that's friendly to the Republic and Jedi. And we'd better choose a damn good system, because we can't go back into hyperspace afterwards," she said, projecting a small star map of the local systems into the air as the ship soared up through Sullust's thick smoky atmosphere.

"There!" Wil exclaimed, pointing out an individual system, "Naboo. It's a Republic stronghold, and Senator Amidala is taking official leave of absence there at the moment; she'll help us."

"I thought you were supposed to be useless?" teased Kel as they emerged from the dense atmosphere into the black void of space. Kel set the coordinates, as Wil became increasingly vocal about the approaching Trade Federation battleship. Moments later, as vulture droids swarmed towards them, their ship disappeared into hyperspace.

* * *

Grievous stood silently in the briefing room as astromech droids conducted repairs on his crushed frame. This was the ultimate humiliation, and it made him even more keen for revenge. The flickering blue image of a droid captain was projected into the room, and the droid nodded his head respectfully, "General, we have completed our search of the area, and there is no trace of the Jedi." 

Grievous hissed angrily. His Master had assured him that he would prevent the Republic from intervening, but if these Jedi testified in front of the Senate then it could complicate matters. He considered whether it would be better to tell Dooku what had happened, but quickly dismissed the thought; he did not need the old man's help.

The droid continued, "A single ship left the system, but our sensors indicate that it did not have full hyperspace capability."

"Have we secured the location of our primary targets?"

"All security personnel are accounted for, General, and we are beginning our search of the planet now."

Grievous considered his options for a moment. He couldn't deploy the fleet, as his Master wanted the occupation kept secret until they had full control of the system, but the two Jedi could not be allowed to inform the Senate. He spoke coldly, "Deploy probe droids to every system that they could have reached. I want that ship."


	5. Dewback on a Cheese Grater

Hey all, and welcome back to A Jedi Shall Not! Thanks to everybody who has reviewed, and all reviews are, as ever, greatly appreciated, and rewarded with chocolate.

All the best, Jon and Jen, xxx

* * *

The small waterborne transport wove through a cluster of tiny sandy islands, taking the pair of Jedi rejects towards Senator Amidala's lakeside retreat. The sun glinted off the still waters, as a chorus of unseen birds scolded the craft. Kelseti was already bored of this planet and its nauseating postcard vistas.

Then again, Kel was thankful for the brief respite after the excitement of their arrival. Explaining the smoking wreckage of a crippled Republic Cruiser, gracefully lying on its side next to the Royal Palace of Naboo, having torn through the larger part of an elaborately decorated mosaic courtyard, had been difficult to say the least, mainly as neither Kel or Wil were actually official Jedi. While Kel had favoured aggressive negotiations on principle, given that Queen Jamillia was a politician, Wil's brief summary of the situation had persuaded Jamillia to see their point of view.

The Queen, eager to get them out of the capital city as soon as possible, had provided them with directions to a secluded refuge for the busy politician, as well as a tiny boat. The services of a pilot had been offered, but Kel had insisted that she would get there faster. After all, she had pointed out, what could go wrong?

After an hour of travel, Wil just hoped that whatever it had been wasn't endangered. According to the instructions, the lake retreat was nearby.

* * *

The transport slowed and stopped with a slight bump against the stone jetty, bobbing in the gentle swell of the sheltered water. Kel hopped out, followed by Wil. She hurried up the worn stone steps, which were coloured with moss and fallen pink blossom. She rolled her eyes at Wil, who followed slowly behind her, clearly distracted by the very essence of the lake retreat. 

She sighed. Wil had probably spent his whole life on Coruscant, where old fashioned concepts such as plants and trees had been replaced by highly efficient oxygen-recombiners. Admittedly, she had loved Coruscant. Just below the gleaming white superstructures, there was a whole different world. The Jedi wouldn't have liked it, of course, but they didn't approve of anything, really.

She stormed back down the steps, lacking patience due to the threat of Grievous tracking them, grabbed Wil's padawan braid and brusquely led him on by the hair, following a small path round to an open courtyard. Kel froze, immediately releasing Wil's short blonde braid, her mind racing, as Wil gazed at the entity in front of him with vacant bemusement.

A Jedi Starfighter.

Kel had never seen this model before, but the characteristics – increased engine power and almost no navigational equipment, as a Jedi rarely needed them – were unmistakable. Wil had seen a few starfighters before, mainly when Aayla had set off on an important mission.

"Why does the senator have a Jedi Starfighter?" Wil asked ingenuously.

A wry smile crossed Kelseti's face as she began to have a few sneaking suspicions. Composing herself, she strutted past the Starfighter with a playful smile, passing her hand admiringly over the smooth metal frame as she did.

"Kel, why-"

She waved her hand at Wil, signalling for him to keep quiet, as she crept forwards towards a small roofed terrace. Peering over the edge, her eyes focused on the figure below her, standing perfectly still on a lower uncovered balcony by the water.

She recognised him instantly. The short brown hair. The boyish good looks. Even with his eyes closed in meditation, he looked slightly moody and full of angst. It was the poster boy of the Jedi and Republic, Anakin Skywalker. Suppressing her smile, she adopted a disturbingly convincing concerned expression. She rushed down the stairs to Anakin's balcony, closely followed by Wil.

"Master Skywalker! Thank the force you're here!"

His meditative state disturbed, Anakin awoke from his trance and spun round in shock. Kel saw the fear in his eyes already. This was going to be very fun.

"Who are you?"

Kel thrust forwards her hand and shook his vigorously, pretending to be out of breath, "Kelseti Talik. I'm a former Jedi. This is Wilreen Beron, a padawan of the Order." Wil nodded timidly in response to his name, as if overawed by his present company. Kel continued, "We came to see Senator Amidala. We must speak with her immediately about a matter of grave urgency."

Anakin looked around nervously, like an animal caught in the headlights.

"I…what would I know about Pad- Senator Amidala?"

"This is her official residence, isn't it?" Kel quickly shot back.

"Yes." Anakin returned after a pause, a single bead of sweat forming on his brow.

"In fact, I could have sworn that I heard on the holonet that you were hunting down Count Dooku." Kel, in fact, wasn't lying. Anakin had become such a celebrity that his missions were always widely reported. Though military details were never disclosed, the Jedi council had taken action after it had come to light that Anakin had posed for a series of trading cards, available from a popular breakfast cereal.

"I do hope that he isn't planning an insurrection on Naboo." Kel added, with solemn concern in her voice.

"There's been a small change of plans. I'm here as a bodyguard. For Senator Amidala."

"Ah," muttered Kel slightly more quietly, though still loudly enough for Anakin to hear her, "So I take it that you're using protection?"

"What?" Anakin exclaimed, taking a step back.

"I said that I think you're right that she needs protection. What with the Trade Federation's recent offensives and all."

"Oh," he answered quietly, not meeting her steady gaze.

"You seem a little on edge, Master Skywalker. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"So, does she come regularly?"

Anakin froze, visibly tensing his muscles, his eyes flicking from the poker-faced Kelseti to Wil, who blinked stoically, smiling at the famous war hero.

"To this balcony," said Kel slowly, "Does Senator Amidala often come to this balcony? We really need to speak to her as soon as possible."

Silence. With a single raised eyebrow, Kelseti dragged out the silence for what seemed like an eternity.

"Cahavyartgraf?" Wil mumbled shyly, staring resolutely at his feet. The others stared at him for a few seconds. "Plees'nk you." Anakin wondered detachedly whether he should run and hide or seek out a medical droid's advice on his sudden loss of hearing and, quite possibly, his sanity.

"Don't worry," Kel explained, reading Anakin's expression. "He just gets stuck sometimes." She offhandedly slapped Wil, who looked up and smiled at his idol, as if just rebooted.

"Can I have your autograph?" he asked politely, performing something that was halfway between a bow and a curtsey.

Anakin quickly brushed past them, escaping inside.

"Oh, Havalflidjit…"

Kel mouthed, _"What?" _and then pursued the beleaguered Jedi.

"Padmé!"

"First name terms with the Senator, Anakin? The Jedi code of behaviour has really changed since I was part of the Order."

"… Senator Amidala, could you please come outside…_now_."

* * *

Padmé sat calmly, dressed in a pure white dress, which left her shoulders and arms uncovered. The contrast with Kel, still wearing the black overalls that had taken quite a battering on Sullust, couldn't have been more noticeable. The politician smiled politely, though not warmly, at Kelseti, who herself sat opposite her, smirking, with a single boot resting on a small table. Behind Padmé, Anakin, his arms crossed defensively across his chest and the slightest hint of a blush visible on his sullen face, like a child caught doing something that he already knew was wrong. Wil stood behind Kel, completing the symmetry of the scene. 

"Miss Talik. Welcome to my residence. Master Skywalker tells me that you have important news to report?"

"Yep. We just got here from Sullust. The Separatists own it now."

A flicker of panic passed over Padmé's otherwise clear countenance for a moment.

"We have to inform the Senate immediately."

"Sullust is in on it. They've sold out the Republic to Grievous. We have to get to Coruscant to prove Grievous' involvement."

"I can arrange for the Royal Starship to take you there immediately."

"No. Grievous is hunting us down right now, which is exactly why we've come to you in person. We need you to arrange a transport for us, without sending any transmissions."

"That will take more time. I can send a handmaiden to Theed to acquire a small ship for you, but I can't promise anything until tomorrow morning at the earliest."

"Lovely. Where are our rooms?"

Padmé blinked. She wasn't used to people inviting themselves to stay, even though there was nowhere else for them to go.

"I will show you to your rooms shortly. Is there anything else?"

"Just one little thing." Kel turned to Wil, "Could you go grab the General's arm? I think I left it in the boat."

"Sure," replied Wil, turning and leaving.

Kel turned back to the uncomfortable looking Jedi Knight.

"I'm not sure if you've ever noticed, but this place is rather romantic."

Anakin flashed a livid glance at Kel, but she could see the fear behind it.

"Miss Talik," replied Padmé evenly, "I'm not sure what impression you may have got, but I hope you understand-"

"Oh I understand that there's nothing unusual going on here," interrupted Kel with a simple, earnest smile, "You're a busy Senator. He's a practising Jedi. We're fighting a war." Anakin and Padmé looked relieved, sharing what they probably thought was a subtle smile, before Kel concluded her train of thought. "You're fuck buddies."

An awful lingering silence fell on the room, which Kel was quite accustomed to causing. Padmé and Anakin stared at her incredulously, while Kel glanced from one to the other, awaiting their response. At length she continued, "Did I miss anything?"

"I don't know who you think you-" Anakin blurted out.

"Anakin!" Padmé snapped, reducing her significant other to the status of sulky teenager. She breathed in and out slowly, regaining her composure. "Miss Talik, I can assure you that Anakin and I are not…" Padmé faltered, breathing in, but failing to say anything.

"Fuck buddies?" Kelseti finished helpfully.

"Well, we are not… that."

"Oh come on, say it with me. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck."

Padmé couldn't help but glare at Kelseti. Composing herself, she turned and looked into Anakin's eyes. He hesitated, but nodded in response, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Kelseti," said Padmé, her politician's tone fading, and a genuine human desperation appearing, "Anakin and I are married."

This time it was Kelseti's turn to be shocked. It wasn't unknown for Jedi to have purely sexual relationships. In fact, as many Masters now accepted, it would be unnatural for young Jedi to be completely asexual creatures. As long it was just sex, and nobody got pregnant, there wasn't that much of a problem. But marriage meant love and attachment, and they were most definitely off-limits for very good reasons.

"The Jedi's golden boy. The poster boy of the Republic. In a forbidden marriage that goes against the most fundamental principles of the Jedi." Kel almost whispered, staring off into space, before releasing a long whistle.

"We would obviously appreciate it if you didn't mention this to anybody."

"I'm not here to judge." Kel replied seriously, "You crazy kids can do what you want. But…" She stopped there.

"What about Wilreen?" Anakin asked.

"Oh please," answered Kel, suppressing a laugh, "I bet he doesn't even know what the Dewback on a Cheese Grater position is." Anakin and Padmé both blinked, and decided not to ask. Kel continued, "Your secret is safe with me, and I doubt Wil would realise what was going on even if he walked in on something kinky."

Kel rose and walked towards the door, heading further inside the building. Padmé, quite offended that Kel had stood up without waiting for her host to do so, but not mentioning it, followed, gritting her teeth as she noticed that Kel was tramping mud into the carpet.

"Hey," called Kel over her shoulder, "When's dinner served? I'm starving."

"I'll call you when it's ready. If you'll follow me Miss Talik."

The door closed behind them, and Anakin collapsed onto a chaise-longue, closing his eyes and blocking out a world which had just got a lot more complicated. He re-opened them, to see Wil arrive, holding a sinister looking claw at arm's length, spin in a full circle twice, frown, and then stumble through the door after Kel.


	6. She Bruised Easily

_Hey all, and welcome back to A Jedi Shall Not. We'd just like to say thanks for the reviews, please keep them coming, and we're very interested in General Morgawr's 'legion of all sorts of geeks' . Jen is obsessed with them, and demands details. Trust me, it's not a good idea to argue with her._

_All the best, Jon and Jenni, xxx

* * *

_

In one of Padmé's many luxurious guest bedrooms, Wil sat at the foot of a large, fluffy white bed, trying to make Kel stay still so that he could bandage the wounds inflicted by Grievous. He worked with an uncharacteristic aptitude, but a padawan could hardly spend fifteen years failing in the ways of the force without learning at least the basics of first aid. Kel took up as much room as possible on the bed; having spent so many years on the move she was enjoying the feel of a mattress, and a roof over her head, never mind the silk sheets.

"Kelseti, would you please stop fidgeting, and pass me those bandages."

Wil jumped nervously as he was forced to take the bandages from Grievous's claw, which was being held by a grinning Kel. She had been poking at the circuitry for a while now with a hairclip filched from Padmé, and, barring a brief scare in which the hand had made a grab for her throat, she had succeeded in manipulating it.

There was a cough and a knock at the door as Anakin walked in. He looked, Wil considered, almost wary as he entered. Wil blushed; maybe Master Skywalker had seen Wil training in the Temple at some point. Lacking anything to say, Wil waved at Anakin, who nodded back politely, before addressing Kel, which suited Wil, as decision making was not his forte.

"I suppose you don't want to contact the Republic in case Grievous intercepts your signal and traces it to here?"

"Yep. Yes. Absolutely. That's completely right," replied Kel a little too quickly, grimacing slightly as Wil tied a splint to one of her fingers.

"I understand your concerns about the…" Anakin paused, gesturing with his hands while searching the ceiling for the exact words he needed, "…the response time of the Senate."

"Exactly," replied Kel, "That's exactly why we can't send any transmissions."

Wil felt safe around two such quick-witted and sensible individuals.

"Nonetheless," Anakin continued, "I do think that it would be a good idea to contact the Jedi Council. They could have a team of Jedi to escort you to Coruscant here long before Grievous or the Republic could mobilise any troops."

Kel glanced at Wil, before asking Anakin pointedly, "And where would you be when they arrived?"

"I would be in the Outer Rim, tracking down Dooku, of course. I really think that you should contact the Council. Padmé could provide you with the communications equipment, and Master Beron here already knows the communications frequency."

Wil remained silent. Had anybody ever shown enough faith in Wilreen's memory to give him the full communications frequency of his own home, then he had proved those who hadn't shown such faith quite right by forgetting the entire event. Giving it more thought, he had a vague suspicion that the code had a '2' in it somewhere, which was a start. It was at that point that he realised that the two more competent Jedi had themselves fallen silent.

Kel was frowning stubbornly and Anakin's face carried the slightest hint of confusion. Wil wondered if he had done something wrong. At length, Kel spoke, "I doubt the Council would do anything, you know. What's the point in contacting them? While Grievous comes to wipe us out, a few old men sitting around muttering 'I've got a bad feeling about this' at each other won't do us much good."

Again there was a pause. Anakin smiled and turned to face the window, clearly trying to hide his amusement. "That sounds familiar."

Wil noticed that Kel breathed out, wiping a thin bead of sweat from her forehead, before she herself smiled. "Kenobi."

Wil's ears pricked up at the mention of another one of his heroes.

"You must have trained at about the same time as him, right?" asked Anakin.

"Yeah," agreed Kel, guardedly.

Anakin grinned mischievously. "What was he like back then?"

"Not so different from you, from what I've heard. He was ambitious, and always wanted to be the best. He also lost his lightsabre quite a lot."

Anakin grinned at the lightsabre comment, but considered the others things she had said, "It doesn't sound much like the Obi-Wan that taught me. He was always going on about what was right and wrong. He was always the perfect Jedi."

"Sounds like he grew up," returned Kel with a smile. Anakin smiled back, still gazing out over the lake.

"He really used to lose his lightsabre?"

"He got through two every week."

As Kel began to animatedly recount stories of a young Obi-Wan, Wil gave up at any attempts at first aid; Kel was, by her own admission, a fair force healer anyway, but he couldn't help but worry. He slipped out of the room silently, looking for a balcony to meditate on; it was an exercise even he couldn't mess up too badly. He also felt slightly guilty about failing to keep up with the programme of meditation that Aayla had laid out for him, irrespective of the unusual circumstances of the past few days.

Padmé emerged from a nearby room as he passed the door. He instinctively bowed, and she returned the sentiment by nodding; Wil took comfort in strict formal etiquette.

"Good afternoon, Master Beron. Have you seen Anakin?"

"He's in Kelseti's bedroom," he replied with a courteous smile, as a peal of laughter came from the room. For some reason, Padmé's smile suddenly looked slightly strained to him. She marched over to the door. Wil turned and watched her walk over to Kel's room, glaring in.

"Whenever you're ready, dinner is served," Padmé stated frostily, before turning her back on the pair and marching towards the kitchens.

* * *

The couple and their guests entered the dining room together, with Kelseti and Anakin still talking animatedly about various Council members. Padmé's handmaiden's lined the room, pulling back the chairs for the diners. 

Kelseti took a step back when confronted with these orange-robed look-a-likes, and whispered loudly to Anakin. "How is she doing that…?"

Padmé looked affronted. "Allow me to introduce Sabé, Rabé, Saché, Yané, Eirtaé, Dormé, Versé, Moteé and Ellé."

"Or, as I shall be referring to them all from now on, Padmé," Kel muttered to herself.

The girls nodded respectively as Padmé listed their names. "They are my handmaidens, my bodyguards and my friends."

Anakin interjected, giving their guests the brief explanation. "The more Padmés there are, the less likely it is that the real one will get shot."

Kelseti nodded. "Sweet."

Padmé breathed in sharply, but didn't actually make any objection; while she didn't approve of the wording, Anakin had stated the unpleasant fact of the matter.

"So," continued Kel with a wry smile, "Have there ever been any… misunderstandings?" Anakin suppressed a giggle as Padmé turned to glare at him and Kelseti in turn. "Is that why they're colour-coded these days?"

In the uncomfortable silence that followed, the four sat down, and the handmaidens left briefly to fetch the food.

"Does Anakin get to take one of them on missions?" Kel continued, utterly fascinated, ignoring Padmé's increasingly fierce glare as the handmaidens returned, laying out empty plates in front of the guests, and covered dishes in the middle of the table. "Y'know, I'd really like to take one home for…"

Silence.

The covers had been lifted off the food with a graceful flourish, and the aroma wafted gently through the open-air dining room.

Padmé couldn't be sure, but she was almost certain that Kelseti was making a low, guttural, and almost feral growl, rapidly flicking her eyes between the remaining three diners, as if trying to warn them off the prey in front of them.

With a cry of _'mine,'_ which was muffled by the two bread rolls that Kelseti had already managed to fit into her mouth, approximately half the food had been piled up on Kel's plate within seconds, as the others looked on in terror.

"Dinner is served," muttered Padmé automatically, hiding behind etiquette when faced with so unorthodox a dinner guest.

Kel looked up at these words, eyeing her assumed competitors. She froze, noticing that she had been alone in the scramble for food. In fact, everybody was looking at her and her plate. Wil was desperately trying to avoid catching anybody's eye, Anakin was attempting to stop himself laughing, and Padmé was gripping her cutlery excessively tightly, though still trying to appear as the gracious host. Kelseti slowly pulled one of the bread rolls out of her mouth and reached out, offering it apologetically to Padmé.

"You've never had to get a meal in Hutt territory, have you?"

Padmé made a face, and then her inner politician took over, accepting the peace offering. The roll was taken contemptuously between two fingers, dropped onto Padmé's plate and then pushed to the furthest part of her plate with her knife.

Kelseti meanwhile had quickly tried to imitate Padmé, who was holding two sharp implements in her hands. Kel, while she perfectly used to the concept of knives playing a prevalent role over dinner, was rather confused by the odd-shaped trident thingy, as well as the eye-gouger above her plate.

"The knife goes in the other hand," advised Wil helpfully.

As Kel tried to quickly master the art of table manners, Anakin's attention was drawn to Padmé, who was still pushing the slightly-chewed bread roll around her plate with agitation. A mischievous smile crossed his face as he picked up a small succulent fruit through the force and pulled it over to his plate as subtly as he could. Padmé couldn't help but smile, enjoying the attention. Cutting off a small segment, Anakin sent it back, along with a sly smile.

Kel noticed, and assumed that this was another part of the dining custom, having already finished her own food. Glancing over to Wil, she pulled a delicately grilled slice of fish off his plate, put it down on her own, cut off a piece, and then ate it herself, as Wil quietly began to utter stuttering complaints.

As several more pieces of fish and a few vegetables made their exodus towards Kel, he glanced around. Too polite to steal any food himself, too nervous in the present company to ask for Anakin to pass any of the dishes, and yet hungry and rapidly losing his remaining food to Kel, he noticed a bowl of fruit sitting by Padmé.

Focussing carefully on the bowl, it began to tremble, rising unsteadily off the table, before tilting and falling. While Anakin had the sense to edge away from the bowl, recognising an unskilled force user immediately, Padmé regarded the fruit bowl curiously. A single bead of sweat formed on Wil's brow as he increased his focus, trying to pull the bowl towards him. Kel smirked as she saw what was about to happen, but didn't bother warning anybody else.

Then it happened.

With a crack and a series of squelching explosions, the fruits simply burst ferociously, bathing Padmé in a shower of pulped fruit. Kel wasn't sure who looked more horrified of the three other diners.

"That, umm," Wil began stuttering rapidly, "wasn't an… expensive dress, was it?"

Padmé blinked, perhaps still in shock, "It took seven seamstresses six months to make."

"Havalflidjit," muttered Wil into his own chest.

"So," added Kel, sampling a small amount of the pulped fruit that she had brought over to her through the force, "A pretty casual thing for weekends away, then?"

Padmé didn't reply. There were four more courses to come.

* * *

After a dessert that was eaten in uncomfortable silence, Anakin and Padmé slipped away and escaped in the small transport that their guests had arrived in, while Wil and Kelseti stood on the balcony, overlooking the lake, basking in the warmth of the setting sun. They could just see Padmé and Anakin in the distance, standing on the beach of a small island. Kel couldn't be sure, but she was reasonably sure that Padmé had buried her head in Anakin's chest. 

"Why did they go over there?" asked Wil, leaning beside Kel on the marble handrail.

"They're young and…" Kel stopped herself. It was better to leave Wil in a blissful state of ignorance if at all possible, "I think Padmé was just a little overwhelmed by us. I get the feeling that she isn't used to sharing her home." Wil murmured in agreement. Kel smiled to herself; though she wouldn't say it, she also got the impression that Padmé wasn't used to having any competition for Anakin's full attention. Kel couldn't help but ponder Wil's complete ignorance about love. She had to ask. Breathing in deeply, she said, as casually as she could, "Wil, you're not very comfortable around girls, are you?"

Wil turned to face Kel, wide-eyed and mouth gaping open, as if she had just said something very rude. After several false starts at forming a sentence, he babbled, "A Jedi shall not know love!"

"I know, I know. But, still, it's slightly odd for young people to have no contact with the opposite sex." She realised her mistake immediately as Wil swayed slightly in shock. "The opposite gender," she quickly corrected. "Is there any reason you don't feel at ease around girls?"

"What makes you think that I'm not comfortable around girls?" asked Wil.

"Just the way you act around Padmé's cleavage."

Wil sighed. "It's just hard sometimes," he said despondently.

"That's a good start," replied Kel, patting him twice on the back with a knowing smile.

"What?"

"Never mind," she said, shaking her head at Wil missing the joke. "You were saying?"

"I sometimes suffer from accidental discharge."

Kel couldn't stop herself from bursting into laughter, despite knowing exactly what he actually meant; a lack of control over the force was a very common problem for young padawan learners, but most outgrew it at the same time as bedwetting.

"I can see how that would be a problem," she said at length.

"I once knew a young healer," said Wil coyly, blushing bright red, "She was really cute, and she made me laugh…"

"What happened?" asked Kel sympathetically.

"We kissed…"

"And?"

"And then I knocked her through a dividing wall. I didn't mean to!" he said defensively, "And it wasn't a very thick wall…"

"What happened?"

"It never would have worked. She bruised easily."

Kel looked at Wil's face. He still looked genuinely upset by the memory. She placed a hand on his shoulder, "Tough break, kiddo."

"I was never in love," declared Wil after a short pause, "I promise. I just liked her. I never liked anybody else either."

Kel stayed silent, but gave a reassuring squeeze to Wil's shoulder. Her eyes were focussed on Anakin and Padmé's prolonged embrace. Wil pulled his robe tightly round his neck, shivering as a cloud blotted out the warmth of the sunset.

"C'mon, kiddo," she muttered, steering Wil into the house, "Let's head inside."


	7. Sub Rosa

Hey all, love to all our readers, and please do review. All the best, Jon and Jen.

Empty wine glasses stood on a small table of finely carved dark wood. The fire had died down and would soon be nothing but glowing embers. In the small study, the faint cries of nocturnal birds were drowned out by the boisterous laughter of Anakin, who sat on a long couch next to Padmé, and Kel, who sat in the deepening shadows on a couch next to Wil.

"And then," Anakin, gesturing expressively as Kel leaned forward interestedly, "I just jumped out of the speeder, and left Obi-Wan there, giving his scolding to nobody." Anakin giggled at the memories, "I fell for about ten seconds before grabbing hold of the assassin's ship, and boy did she look surprised!" He unintentionally preened as he finished his story. Wil guessed that Anakin didn't often get to brag about his achievements; the Jedi Order didn't approve of boasting, and Padmé didn't seem like the sort of girl who would be impressed by the idea of throwing yourself out of an airborne speeder.

"I did the same thing, one time on Rhen Var," Kel followed. "Admittedly, I didn't actually land on the transport I was aiming for, but I landed on something that wasn't the floor, and that's what counts, right?"

Anakin nodded in agreement, chuckling at the thought. He continued relating his anecdotes while Kel listened raptly; they were barely aware of the other two occupants of the room. Wil listened with great interest, swaying slightly; he wasn't exactly an experienced drinker. He was staying completely silent, just in case anybody asked him how long it had been since he last hopped out of a speeder and let himself fall a few miles through moving traffic.

Padmé stood up abruptly, muttering "Excuse me…" under her breath, before laying another log on the fire and giving it a series of slightly vicious prods with the poker. She then settled back down next to Anakin, crossing her arms defensively and staring resolutely out of the window at the dark sky.

"Well, the key is to keep changing technique," exclaimed Kel instructively, "and to keep changing your lightsabre grip."

"You can change grip mid-battle?" asked Anakin with a mix of scepticism and veiled admiration.

"Sure. I'll show you if you want."

The pair leapt up and practically ran out of the study, leaving Padmé behind, who glared fiercely at the closed door.

Wil fell back, grinning widely as soon as he was sure that they were both gone, "Wow," he stated matter-of-factly, addressing nobody in particular. "Aren't they both just amazing?"

"Yes," replied Padmé tersely, "that Kelseti truly is just wonderful at everything she does. I wish I was that interesting. Maybe I should throw myself out of a speeder next time we're in Coruscant, and see what Anakin thinks."

Wil gazed at Padmé, suspicious that her words might have been slightly sarcastic, "You… you don't like Kelseti?"

"I just think… I don't really trust her."

"Why?"

"What were you talking about on the balcony, earlier?"

Wil blushed. "She asked about my time at the Academy."

"Yes, doesn't she seem interested in the Order, and Anakin's missions, (not that he seems reluctant to divulge the details.) You know she left the Jedi. What else has she told you about her past?"

Wil hesitated for a moment, "Well…" he whispered, trying to recall any details at all about Kelseti. Drawing a blank, but unwilling to actually admit it, he simply declared, "I do trust Kelseti." A silence fell on the room as Wil realised that he had no real grounds to do so.

"And why is she so obsessed with no communications being sent? A scruffy woman shows up, claiming to be a Jedi, who won't let us check whether she really did used to be, and then starts sweet-talking Anakin to get details of his missions. And she has _no_ table manners."

Wil gazed up at the ceiling, deep in thought. Eventually, he whispered, "Senator, could you arrange for a private link to be established with Coruscant?"

"You're going to check out her background?" asked Padmé eagerly, her eyes lighting up.

"No!" exclaimed Wil guiltily, staring at his feet, "I'm not going to send any transmissions, just like Kel wants. I'll remotely access the Jedi archives. Just out of curiosity."

"I'll arrange it at once," said Padmé with a wry smile, leaving the room immediately.

* * *

The gentle glow from the full moon filled Wil's bedroom. A cool breeze from over the lake wafted through the room, making the silk drapes cast playing shadows on the floor. Moving purposefully slowly, Wil, satisfied that the residence had been utterly silent for almost an hour, slowly slipped out of his bed, still in his Jedi robe. 

"Just stretching my legs," he whispered to himself, as if Kelseti was somehow watching him. He knelt down by the small console that Padmé had readily set up for him. Sensing movement, the screen glowed blue, making Wil squint. A moment later, a thin green line crossed his face, identifying him.

As the system processed his information with a series of irregular quiet whirring noises, Wil looked around, jumping as a gust of the increasingly strong wind made the delicate curtains flap, sounding deafeningly loud to Wil in the silent house. He froze, his muscles completely tensed, not even daring to breathe, in case somebody heard him. After a moment, he allowed himself to relax.

"Master Beron," said the automated archive database, making Wil start momentarily, before turning the volume down. "Good afternoon, please enter your enquiry." Wil frowned at the greeting momentarily, before remembering that the archive would run according to its own local time on Coruscant. Wasting no more time, he selected a search for a Jedi and began to type.

"Kelseti Talik…" he mumbled to himself as he entered her name into the system. The screen went blank, and he was left in the dark, waiting for the results. He crept across the bedroom and opened his door a fraction, peering out into the dim corridor. Silently closing the door behind him again, slightly reassured, he went over to the system.

Wil blinked at the screen. Her name had been found, but it was framed by a red border. Those who chose to leave the Order were indicated in the archive with a yellow border, which meant, rather perversely, that Dooku possessed one. Red, however, was reserved for those who had been expelled. Wil shook his head. Kel had told him that she had chosen to leave.

"It doesn't mean anything," he told himself decisively. He knew well enough that the archives could suffer the occasional hiccup, incorrectly filing data on people, and, so he had been told, sometimes even planets. After a short hesitation, he tapped on the screen, requesting her full file. A photo came up immediately. Wil instantly recognised the dark exotic skin and wavy black hair. It was definitely Kel, but she looked so much younger. In fact, she must have been about Wil's present age when the shot was taken.

He scrolled down slightly to the information, though her smirking face was still visible. The long silence was only interrupted by Wil's shallow breathing. He didn't read every word. Phrases leapt out at him.

'-failed to answer communications from the Jedi Council-'

With each line he read, bile crept closer to the back of his throat.

'-strongly suspected to have been an agent of the Sith while at the Temple'

He was confused, shocked, and horrified.

'Before disappearing, Kelseti Talik murdered her Master; the cause of death was confirmed to be Miss Talik's own lightsabre by several experts'

The final entry cut through him like a lightsabre.

'Status; extremely dangerous. Do not approach under any circumstances.'

He backed away from the console, leaving the damning report on Kelseti on the screen. A whoosh cut through the quiet night air, followed by a droning hum that Wil knew so well. The whole room was suddenly covered with a faint pink hue. Wil's eyes felt hot, tears of terror and resentment forming, as he turned to face Kelseti, watching him from the doorway. She stood in the doorway, her blade held up aggressively, her muscles tense, ready to pounce, clearly ready to fight. There was a cold detachment in her eyes. Wil wasn't sure whether he just hadn't seen it before, or whether Kel had hidden it from him. The dark side, as Aayla had told him, was hard to see.

"Why?" he whispered at her, sweating as he saw his own death approaching. He couldn't understand how the person described by the archives could be the same one that had protected him against Grievous twice. Maybe she had intended to come to Naboo all along, in order to assassinate the Senator, or Anakin, and Wil had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe she had an entirely different motive for joining up with Wil, letting him lead her to the Senate, or the Temple, perhaps. It didn't matter now.

"Wil," she said without emotion, stepping towards him with her blade up, "I'm sorry."

Wil held his ground as she walked closer. He didn't draw his lightsabre, knowing that it would be futile. All he knew was that he wasn't going to run away from her. Wil closed his eyes tightly, not wanting to let her see him cry.

Kelseti leapt forwards and swung her lightsabre in a vicious horizontal slice.


End file.
